Panda Panic by Jamie Rix Page B

“ and you will conquer the world .”
    â€œHow can you master boredom?” he asked. “Boredom’s just boring.”
    â€œIf you’re bored,” she said quietly, “it’s up to you to go off and find something to do.”
    â€œLike what?”
    â€œLike fishing,” she suggested.
    â€œFishing’s boring,” said Ping.
    â€œFishing’s safe,” his mother said.
    â€œSo long as you don’t fall into the water,” snickered An. “Which Ping probably would, because he’s as clumsy as a fairy in concrete boots.”
    â€œAnd it is the end of the rainy season, so the river’s running rather fast at the moment,” said his mother anxiously. “Actually, I’ve changed my mind, Ping. Maybe fishing’s not a good idea. Why don’t you ask your best friend, Hui, to play with you?”
    Hui was a bright-blue grandala bird who entertained Ping for hours with his exciting stories about flying around the world.
    â€œBecause he’s busy catching insects for his winter nest,” said Ping. “He said I could help him, but I hate bugs. They nest in my fur and tickle me.” Ping scratched his nose and tipped back his head to look at the sky. “You know, sometimes I wish I wasn’t a panda. Sometimes I wish I was a bird, like Hui, because birds can go wherever they like.”
    â€œYou can’t be a bird,” said An, “because birds have a head for heights. You’ve got a head for basketball.”
    â€œI’m not staying here to be insulted,” Ping said, standing up in a huff. “And anyway, if my head is the shape of a basketball, yours must be too. So there!”
    â€œWill you two please stop arguing,” said their mother. “You can go off and have a silly adventure, Ping, but don’t do anything dangerous, make sure you’re back for supper, and watch out for snow leopards!”
    â€œMaybe I will and maybe I won’t,” he grumbled, kicking his way through a bamboo hedge and stomping out of the clearing.

    The moment he was out of sight, Ping felt guilty. He shouldn’t be speaking to his mother like that. After all, she was only trying to keep him safe. And she had actually met a snow leopard once, so she knew how dangerous they could be. He’d better say sorry—yes, that would be the kind thing to do—maybe not now, though. After he’d had his adventure. He’d do it tonight, when he came home for supper.

    â€œPing.”
    Ping spun around, surprised to find his sister standing close behind him.
    â€œPromise me,” she said seriously, “that whatever it is you end up doing today, it won’t be anything stupid!”
    Ping laughed at the very idea.
    â€œAs if I would,” he said. “As if I would!”
    Then he disappeared into the bushes to find himself a surfboard.

CHAPTER TWO
    P ing had decided to give surfing another try. He was well aware that his last effort had ended rather soggily, with water being squeezed out of his tail and shaken out of his ears at the veterinarian’s office, but that was a long time ago. He was two weeks older now and much, much wiser. Besides, he’d done a lot of thinking about what went wrong on that occasion and had decided that it was all the fault of his surfboard—not its rider. He needed a single piece of wood instead of a tray made from bamboo poles lashed together—a big, flexible board that could withstand the pressures that a champion surfer would demand from it.
    As luck would have it, five minutes later, as he wandered past the tall ranger’s office, he stumbled upon the perfect piece of wood lying across his path. Someone had even customized it for him by painting it bright green. He went to knock on the back door of the office to ask if he might take it, but to his surprise there was no door, just a hole in the wall where a door had once been. He waited outside the